


Not Your Enemy

by leftdragonpainter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Homeless Sam Winchester, Humor, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Witness Protection, creeper Michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftdragonpainter/pseuds/leftdragonpainter
Summary: When the young Winchester meets a golden eyed stranger at his brother's funeral, he doesn't know what to think. How did this Gabriel person know his brother?Sam knows he should be wary of this stranger, but can't help but be drawn to him.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been sitting on this one a while. But here... have at it loverlies! Maybe this will help with my writer's block on my other seven wips???  
> As always...  
> Comments, and kudos  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

“Sorry Dean-o but I’m gonna hafta kill ya.” Gabriel Shurley’s words came out harsher than he intended. Sitting in the booth across from him was Dean Winchester, who at that very moment was glaring at the shorter US Marshall as though he wanted to kill him.

“Now, now. Don’t give me that look. You got yourself into this when you came forward about your boss. Mr. Azazel needs to think that you’re dead until we can get this to trial.” Gabriel took a large sip of the strawberry milkshake he had ordered. The diner he had chosen to have this meeting was thankfully crowded so no one would be able to over hear their conversation. It had amused him when the other man had ordered something called a Pig’N’a Poke. Whatever the hell that was.

“Still doesn’t mean that I have to like it.” Dean frowned. He also didn’t have to like that the Marshall was right. Dean had brought this upon himself, and frankly, he would do it again in a heartbeat. Barely a week ago he had gotten a small contracting job working for Mr. Azazel. On his second day he had walked into the wrong room and discovered that his new boss was into some seriously disturbing shit. Dean had found files that Mr. Azazel was affiliated with the Demon gang, that he was the head of a child trafficking ring. Dean had made copies of everything and gone straight to the authorities. While Dean understood that it was necessary for his own safety to go into hiding, he still had one problem with it. “Are you sure that we can’t tell Sammy?”

“Look Dean-o. I like ya so I’m going to be honest here. This is for Sam’s protection too. Let’s say we did tell your brother and one of Azazel’s men found out that he knows where you are? What do you think that they would do to him? He has to believe you’re dead as much as the rest of the world.”

“I guess you got a point. Doesn’t mean I like it though,” Dean admitted.

“I know but this is what I do. Protecting you and your brother are what matter the most right now. It makes it easier knowing that your brother is several states away right now. The rest of my team are out finding as many of those kids as they can, and collecting enough dirt on the Demon’s gang to put ‘em away for life. But we need you to do your part,” the Marshall pulled out a sheet of paper from his ‘briefcase’, which was more of a bookbag with Scooby-doo on it. Handing the page to Dean, Gabriel asked. “So, how do you want to die?”

Listed on the sheet were numerous ways to ‘die’.

                             

1) Run over with a car.

2) Home fire.

3) Electric shock caused by faulty wiring.

4) Shot in the face with a shotgun.

5) Shot in the heart by ‘mugger’.

6) Attacked by axe wielding maniac.

7) Slip and fall randomly in shower.

8) Food poisoning (death by taco).

 

“Death by taco? Really? Who the hell came up with that one?” Dean snorted.

“Oh come on. You can’t tell me that that one isn’t hilarious.” Gabriel smirked. He saw the green eyed man’s lips twitch with amusement. That one he had thrown in at last minute to lighten the mood of the situation a bit. Gabriel knew that he wasn’t the typical Marshall. Not by a long shot. But that didn’t mean that his results weren’t up to standards. He threw his hands up, surrendering. “Alright, alright. Have it your way. Tacos are off the list. But you still have to choose one.”

Dean stared at the thick quality paper silently. This was necessary, he had to protect Sammy. Dean sighed. The pressure that had been behind his eyes since he woke up that morning grew, almost causing his eyes to water. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “This really sucks, you know that right? I can’t believe that I’m doing this.”

“You’re right. This sucks a great big bag of dicks. But you’re doing the right thing, here.” Gabriel had a weak smile when he continued. “So Dean Winchester, how do you want to die?”

 


	2. Chapter Two

Sam Winchester stared down at the headstone, completely numb.

 

_Dean Winchester_

_Died Age 28_

_Brother and Jerk_

 

Only Dean would have actually had that line as a request for his headstone. Sam shook his head. The ground beneath the new headstone was completely green. There hadn’t been a body to bury. Sam hadn’t been able to say good-bye. The explosion had taken out the entire warehouse he had been working in apparently.

Sam had gotten the call and hopped on a plane back to Kansas without thinking. He had driven past the old warehouse district, surprised that some of them had still been in use as debilitated as they appeared. The charred remains of old wood, and piles of rubble and brick had taken what was left of his heart.

_His brother was gone._

_Dean was dead._

In true Winchester fashion, Sam grabbed the nearest bottle of whiskey and remained perpetually drunk until the night before. He wouldn’t tarnish his brother’s memory by showing up to his funeral wasted.

There weren’t many other people at the gravesite. Dean had only recently moved to Lebanon so it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t gotten around to making many friends. Not that Dean would do that anyway. Sam shook his head. He looked around at the few people who had come. He didn’t know a single one of them, but they definitely looked like the type of people Dean would have collected.

There was a redhead, her black and green Slytherin shirt only slightly covered by a black hoodie. Curiously, she had placed a plastic crown next to the headstone earlier. Sam hadn’t gotten around to asking her about it yet. Beside her was a man about Dean’s height, dressed in a dark peacoat and wearing a hat over his low brow. His stubbled chin making him appear harsher than he probably was. _Benny,_ his mind supplied. Sam recalled his brother mentioning his friend the last time they had talked on the phone.

Others he didn’t even try to place. He didn’t know them and they didn’t know him. They barely knew his brother, he thought angrily. They didn’t know how he had raised Sam, had sacrificed everything and more just so Sam would be able to go to school, would be able to eat and be clothed. How much Dean had had to sacrifice of his life so that Sam could _live_. They didn’t know.

After a while the mourners started to leave, one at a time. Sam continued to stare down at the headstone. He didn’t acknowledge when they tried to comfort him, to tell him how sorry they were for his loss. He wanted to be left alone with this last piece of his brother.

“Come on, kiddo. You can’t just stay out here all night.”

The whiskey smooth voice pulled at Sam. Night had started to darken the skies, making him wonder how long he had been standing there, lost in his memories and grief. He glanced at the man standing next to him.

He was short, shorter than Sam at least. Which wasn’t saying much, since most everyone was. The top of his sandy blond hair barely came to Sam’s shoulders. His plain features were nothing remarkable at first glance, but his whiskey eyes made Sam take a second look. They didn’t hold pity or sadness the way everyone else had at the burial. Whiskey voice and whiskey eyes and whiskey hair. Sam wondered if he tasted of whiskey as well, before shaking the thought away.

“Why not? It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.” Sam’s voice came out in a whisper. It wasn’t as though he would freeze to death out in the open. Not tonight. It wouldn’t even be the first time in his life that he had been forced to sleep out in the elements. It happened quite regularly in his childhood, despite Dean’s best efforts. He looked at the man again, appraisingly. “Who are you anyway? Another of Dean’s boyfriend’s that he denied having?”

The man laughed. Shaking his head he held out his smaller hand to Sam. “Name’s Gabriel.”

“So?”

“So, what?” Gabriel’s eyes lit up warmly as he waited for Sam to speak.

“How’d you know my brother?” This man certainly wasn’t Dean’s type, that’s for sure. If anything he was more Sam’s. Pointedly he coughed, tugging at his hand still captured by Gabriel’s smaller one.

“Oh. Right.” Gabriel chuckled. “Actually I only knew him a week or so. He was going to be working on rebuilding my old classic.”

Intrigued to learn something that Dean hadn’t gotten around to telling him before he… Well, it was nice to know that Dean still liked fixing up cars. “What type of car is it?” he asked politely.

“Gremlin.”

Sam barked with laughter for the first time in a week. Gabriel was probably thinking that he was insane as he witnessed Sam loose it. Tears streamed down his face, and his side ached. Finally, Sam finished, winded and bent over. Gabriel smirked at him, eyebrow arched. “That’s the same reaction Dean gave me.”

They stood for several moments in silence, the chirping of tree frogs the only noise around them.

*****

Gabriel knew it was a bad idea.

He was only supposed to keep an eye on the younger Winchester from a distance. But then he had seen Sam, looking so lost and alone at the graveside. The weight of the world was crushing him, and it took everything Gabriel had not to run over and shout ‘Just kidding! Your bro’s alive!’

Gabriel knew there was more at stake here than just one man’s feelings.

Somehow he had convinced the tall moose to grab a bite at a 24-hour diner down the road. Once under the harsh florescent lighting, Gabriel silently observed the other man. There were dark circles and bags under his eyes, and his sunken cheeks added nothing to the sickly pallor of his skin. He hadn’t been sleeping. Or eating, he thought, as a loud rumble came from across the booth.

“Sorry,” uttered Sam sheepishly, rubbing a hand his midsection.

The waitress came and the placed their orders. Sam only a salad and water. Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. He knew more than Sam thought he did. Dean had told him how he sent Sam as much money as he could while Sam was out in California in school. Well, scrimping by wasn’t going to fly with him, no siree. So Gabriel ordered two chicken sandwiches, (which he knew from experience were huge), fries, pie, a shake, and a cup of coffee.

The pie and shake were for himself.

They sat in silence waiting for the food. Sam making a crawling snake with the straw wrapper before tearing it apart at the edges.

“So, earlier…” Gabriel gestured, his words dropping off like a rock being thrown into the Grand Canyon. The awaiting sound more obvious than the crash when it came. “Uh, you were saying that you didn’t have any place to go. That true?”

Sam’s eyes snapped up. “What’s it to you?”

Gabriel threw up his hands complacently. “Woah there, big guy. Don’t mean anything by it. It’s just… Look. I get it. Okay?”

“You don’t get anything about me.” Sam scoffed.

“You just lost your brother. Trust me, I know how that feels. My older brother Luke, well… Let’s just say he didn’t make the best choices when it came to friends. He got into more trouble he could ever get out of. He was dead before he graduated high school.” _What the hell are you doing, Gabriel?_ Since when did he talk about his real life to complete civilians?

Looking away from Sam’s gaze, he watched the waitress approach with their food instead. Sam barely acknowledged the plate of chicken and fries being shoved towards him.

“How old were you?”

“Twelve. And despite how stupid it was, I looked up to that sonofabitch. So believe me, I get it.” Grabbing a fork he dug into his pie. Noticing that the younger man wasn’t eating, he pointed at the plate. “Eat. You look like you haven’t in a week.”

They ate in silence after that. Sam finishing off both sandwiches but ignoring the fries in favor of his salad. While Gabriel slurped at the milkshake, Sam came to the decision to admit, “I’ve been sleeping in my brother’s car.”

A popping sound echoed as the straw was removed from Gabriel’s mouth. “Why? Why not stay at his apartment?”

“Already been leased out. And since the landlord didn’t know Dean had family, he had tossed all his things. Everything I have of my brother is in that car, and I didn’t…” Sam took a shuddering breath. “I couldn’t be away from what was left.”

He ran a hand through his dingy unwashed, hair.

“You probably think I’m just a stupid kid, huh?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No. I think right now, you really just need a friend.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. It's been forever and a day. Good news is that I have half of the next chapter for this written as well :)  
> This chapter is mainly the Dean side. Not to worry though, next chapter is full Sabriel.  
> Note: The Michael I'm picturing in this is Apocalypse World!Michael cuz, let's face it, he's soooo pretty.
> 
> Comments, kudos and yada yada  
> Gabi

It had only been a week since his ‘death’, but Dean already wanted to go home. Despite knowing that his safety was at stake if he left, it still wasn’t enough for him to miss everything he had left behind. His friends, his family… His _Baby._ It didn’t help that he was stuck in the middle of God’s armpit, freezing his ass off in Sioux Falls. Seriously, who the hell chose this place? It sure as hell wasn’t picked for the ambiance.

Thankfully Dean was able to keep somewhat busy. He had been given a job at some salvage yard when he had been hauled up north. The owner was nice enough, he guessed. If you thought that nice equaled to drunk and gruff. But work was work and it got Dean out of the house for a few hours every day. Away from _them_.

‘Them’ being his assigned babysitters that Gabriel had stuck with him. On paper you’d think that they all would get along well, similar age and all. But hell no. Michael, for one, was a pompous douche bag. Dean could swear the man thought every single thing he said and did was some holier-than-thou self-righteous holy mission straight from God himself.

On the first day in the house they all shared Michael had blatantly invited Dean to share his bed. He claimed that it would make it easier to ‘protect him’. No matter how many times Dean said ‘no’, Michael continued to ask. Dean wouldn’t have been so against it -the man was gorgeous after all- but the way he went about it? Dean shivered in disgust. Super fucking creepy, so no thank you.

Yeah, so Dean spent a lot of time at the salvage yard to get away from that giant dick-bag.

On the flip side though of his guardian brigade was Castiel. And wasn’t that name a mouthful. Dean wasn’t quite sure what to make of the quiet, dorky little man. He hardly spoke a word that Dean had heard yet, merely followed Dean’s every move with unblinking eyes. Not in a creepy way, not really. More like he was observing a new alien species or something. That maybe Dean was something he couldn’t really understand and was trying to figure out. Dean had yet to see the blue eyed agent in anything other than the suit and trench coat combo since they had landed in the safe house. He was pretty certain the man slept in it as well. Dean wasn’t really sure what his cover was supposed to be but ‘weird-guy-in-trench-coat’ didn’t seem to be a viable cover in his opinion.

It was the end of a long first week of being Dean Smith when he made his way home. Dean had barely made it through the door to the house, hanging his leather jacket up on the peg when Michael called out. “Welcome back. Now go get that sweet ass of yours into the shower. I’m taking you out tonight.”

Dean glared at the man lounging on the couch. Castiel sat in the armchair reading a well worn novel. His blue eyes barely lifted at the exchange. Dean sighed. All he had wanted to do was come home and relax in front of the newest episode of _Doctor Sexy_. He did not want to have to deal with whatever shit Michael was planning.

“No, Michael. Not really feeling like going out. So thanks but no thanks.” Dean kicked off his shoes.

“Nuh-uh, pretty boy. Best way to hide is out in plain sight. Can’t have the locals talking about the weird shut-in can we?” Michael paused, standing. He raised his arms above his head, allowing the shirt to rise and expose the muscle of his torso. He smirked when he caught Dean’s gaze linger. “We got to keep up the pretext, you know. Just some of the locals out grabbing a beer. Maybe getting some ass.”

Michael slid his gaze slowly down the front of Dean’s figure, before lingering on the front of his jeans. Even soft, little Dean could be seen. Michael licked his lips. “Then again who needs beer?”

Uncomfortable with the exchange, Dean crossed his arms. Castiel was now openly watching them, a heavy frown on his brow. At least he wasn’t the only one having issues with this. Dean cleared his throat. “What do you think, Cas? Think I need to be seen to hide?”

Castiel blinked at the unexpected nickname from the man who barely acknowledged his presence. He took a moment to think over his answer. He nodded slowly. “Unfortunately, I do agree with Michael’s reasoning. We need to appear as normal to the local community as possible. Though I do think that Michael and I need to remain _professional_ about this, including engaging with civilians.”

His tone was clear that he did not like the way his partner was treating their charge.

“Ah, Cassandra get that stick out of your ass. Loosen up.” Michael smiled. “It’s settled then. We are going out. Not you so much, Novak. Someone needs to hold down the fort.”

“We are not staying in a fort Michael. It’s a safe house.” Castiel tilted his head, completely missing the point.

Dean had to admit it. When the man did talk, his voice was worth hearing. Resigned, he threw his hands up in the air. “Fine! One beer and a basket of wings and we’re out of there. Ya hear me?” Not waiting for an answer, Dean stomped out of the room.

Castiel turned to his partner. This was the first time they would be working together. He hated to think it but hopefully it would also be their last. The way Michael talked to their charge pushed far past the boundaries of what was regarded as correct handling. Not to mention his behavior was making Dean visibly uncomfortable. Even Castiel could see that. “Michael. I don’t believe that Dean welcomes your advances. Perhaps it would be best if you desist.”

“Fuck Cassandra. You always so fucking…?” He gestured to the whole of the man, from the trench coat to the tips of his Oxfords. “I’m just laying ground work. I’ll get him into my bed, one way or another.” Michael winked and left to head to his own room to get ready for the night. He had big plans after all.

Castiel stood for a long time, staring after his retreating back. The frown weighed heavy on his face. He couldn’t really be sure but Michael seemed to not have Dean’s best interest at heart. Perhaps he should go after them, watch over him, so that no harm came to him at Michael’s hand. He glanced down at his outfit. He did have a few ‘civies’ -as Gabriel called them-outfits worn to blend into the crowd. Perhaps it was time to utilize them.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now for more Sabriel!!

Gabriel knew it was a bad idea.

That seemed to quickly become his new mantra. One he shouldn’t be repeating. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself from offering Sam the use of his couch for the night at least. Just for the night.

Gabriel turned the lock to his front door, opening the steel easily to reveal his apartment. Sam followed, shoulders hunched, the weight of his duffel pulling at Sam’s already stressed muscles. Or maybe it wasn’t the weight of the bag, Gabriel mused. Having lost his own brother, he could understand the struggle that Sam was no doubt going through, the unending feeling of the weight of the world bearing down on you. A weight that was partly Gabriel’s own fault.

Gabriel’s apartment was nothing special. A bedroom, a bathroom, living room and kitchen… You know, the standard set up. What made it interesting though was that it was in an old converted warehouse. The brick walls, exposed beams and high ceilings made the ridiculously high rent worth it in his own not-so-humble opinion. The view was nothing to scoff at either.

Sam cleared his throat as he looked around the apartment. He had to admit that he was impressed. The ancient duffel that housed all his possessions landed beside the island between the kitchen and living room. Almost shyly, he asked. “Would it be possible to use your shower? It’s… uh, been a while since…”

Gabriel waved over to the bathroom door. He wasn’t above pretending that the taller man wasn’t in desperate need of one. He could be nice about acknowledging it. This time anyway. The kid had been through enough without Gabriel’s unsolicited taunting. “Sure thing, Gigantor. Towels are in the cabinet. Extra razors too if you need ‘em.”

With a nod Sam made for the shower, absentmindedly rubbing at the scruff on his chin. When the door closed between him and the blond, Gabriel sighed. He was going to be in so much trouble if his supervisor ever found out about this. And he was going to find out because Gabriel was the one who would tell him. Rufus would chew him out either way, but less so if it came from him first. He could hear the shower turn on in the other room. He took a deep breath and dialed the direct line. Rufus picked up at the second ring.

“Talk to me.”

Wanting to explain quickly and get everything about the situation on the table before Sam came back out, Gabriel began. “Sam Winchester is staying at my place tonight.”

There was silence on the other end. That was never a good sign. Especially when it was followed by the sound of something no doubt expensive being unstoppered and poured.

“Now before you put me through a wood chipper, let me explain. He has nowhere to go and he said that he is living in his brother’s _very recognizable_ car. I can try to find him someplace tomorrow but for now…” Gabriel tried to keep his voice even and reasonable. “I couldn’t just let him sleep in his car Rufus. Not with Azazael still out there.”

“I wouldn’t expect you too, boy.” Rufus’ weathered voice came through the line finally. There was a deep sigh followed by the chink of ice in a glass. Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Actually his staying with you might just be a good thing.”

“What do you mean?” He had expected yelling, a lot of it. And being called an idiot. This calm Rufus was scaring the hell out of him. It set his teeth on edge. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like what his boss was about to say.

“One of our guys spotted one of Azazael’s boys hovering around the funeral. Kinda surprised that you didn’t see ‘im. I hate to suggest it but you might want to keep him around you for longer than tonight. Watch out for him, boy.” With that unofficial edict he disconnected.

Gabriel stared at the phone. Shit. How the hell was he supposed to convinced the giant to stick around? It wasn’t like they were friends. They hardly knew each other. Gabriel kicked himself for missing the fact that the funeral was being watched. Part of him knew that Azazael and his goons didn’t really believe that Dean Winchester was actually dead. The job of faking the death was -admittedly- haphazard at best. A last minute change from what they had originally planned. It was sloppy and would raise questions should Azazael bother to look into it.

Still lost in thought, he barely registered when the bathroom door swung open. Steam filtering out as Sam appeared.

“Holy fuck.” Gabriel’s mouth dropped open.

Sam ran a hand through his wet hair, wiping it back from his face. He shyly grinned, dimples deepening. He wore nothing but one of Gabriel’s normal sized towels wrapped around his waist. Normal sized for normal sized people. But on his giant and well defined body? It only covered from below his belly button to mid thigh if it was being generous. A droplet of water dripped slowly down the line of muscles of his chest.

“Yeah, sorry,” he started. He gestured to the duffel still sitting out in the kitchen. “Forgot to grab a change of clothes before getting in the shower.”

Finding his voice, Gabriel sputtered out. “Well I sure as heck ain’t complaining.” Then realizing how inappropriate he was being with the virtual stranger, Gabriel blushed and coughed into his hand. Gabriel was no slouch in bringing home willing bed partners, but he sure had never had anyone who looked like _that_ standing around his living room barely clothed before. “Uh, sorry.”

Sam smiled. His shoulders lifted a bit, showing off even more of his expansive chest. “You got a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Just there.” He pointed with a smirk.

_Dick,_ the blond thought. He crossed his arms. “I’m sorry but have you _seen_ you? You’re like a walking bottle of Viagra. Warning label should say ‘May cause stupidity in men and erections lasting more than four hours.”

Sam barked with laughter. Hazel eyes met whiskey ones as he took a large step closer. “Four hours, huh? That a promise?”

Gabriel knew this was going to be a bad idea.


End file.
